


it's gonna be ok

by kickassfu



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: A lot of introspective stuff, Angst, Fluff, Geralt is a dumbass, M/M, both of their pov's, dialogue at the end, jaskier is maybe a little manipulative, to try and get geralt to be less of a dumbass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickassfu/pseuds/kickassfu
Summary: And yes, he can leave anytime. Just go, and leave Geralt to be, well, Geralt. To do his Witchering business, and be his grumpy self, all by his lonesome. But he can’t. Jaskier can’t just do that. He doesn’t want to do that. He likes Geralt. Likes being with him. When he’s not being an absolute twat of a Witcher.Jaskier also knows him a fair amount by now, knows he hardly means the things he says, but that’s not the issue. It doesn’t matter if he means them or not, he’s still saying them, and they’re hurtful.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 154





	it's gonna be ok

**Author's Note:**

> got this prompt on tumblr and tried to make it work: Geralt thinks the bard impervious to insults and discouragement, but he really isn't. He doesn't ask Geralt about his singing again. And gets quieter as days go by. The witcher hates it.
> 
> hope u guys enjoy

Something’s wrong, off. Geralt can sense it, or better yet, he can hear it. _Silence._ But not the good kind of silence, calming and warm, no, it’s disquieting. Jaskier has been changing day by day, growing quieter, less boisterous. No longer does he chatter endlessly, nor does he play the lute nonstop.

All things Geralt actually does enjoy.

Even if he says he doesn’t.

Or tells him to shut up.

No jokes. No fun. Just minimal talking. And Geralt fucking hates it. Hates seeing Jaskier so...unassertive. Closed off.

He doesn’t even touch Geralt as much as before. No washing his hair, no small touches to his shoulder or back as he passes by him. Jaskier can’t even look at him the way he did before.

So yes. Geralt is sure there’s something wrong. He just isn’t sure what’s wrong or why.

Still, he fears it’s his fault. That he’s the one that extinguished the flickering sun that is Jaskier.

* * *

Jaskier has a big personality, he talks and he sings and he loves loudly, with all his damn heart, and he’s not ashamed of it. Doesn’t matter to him one bit if someone isn’t a fan of how he is, of _who_ he is. But-

It’s certainly not fun when your companion, friend, _your_...everything, keeps telling you to shut up. Jaskier, surprisingly enough, does not get off on being insulted. Which Geralt does, constantly, or at least enough times to piss him off a great deal.

And yes, he can leave anytime. Just go, and leave Geralt to be, well, Geralt. To do his Witchering business, and be his grumpy self, all by his lonesome. But he can’t. Jaskier can’t just do that. He doesn’t want to do that. He likes Geralt. Likes being with him. When he’s not being an absolute twat of a Witcher.

Jaskier also knows him a fair amount by now, knows he hardly means the things he says, but that’s not the issue. It doesn’t matter if he means them or not, he’s still saying them, and they’re hurtful.

So…

Maybe-

Maybe Jaskier isn’t talking as much.

Maybe whenever Geralt lashes out at him, insults him or tells him to be quiet, he takes it one step further. No talking, no singing, no touching- And if things keep going the way they are, eventually Jaskier can’t even be around Geralt. Truly, the man is insufferable, and Jaskier wonders when he’ll finally understand what’s happening. When he’ll change his ways.

Jaskier certainly doubts he’ll apologize, but, as long as he changes, he’s fine with it.

Is it a little manipulative? Perhaps. But it’s better than the outcome. Because he knows. He knows that one day things will go too far, Geralt will say one too many things and Jaskier-

Well, Jaskier will be gone. And he doesn’t want that to happen.

For now he keeps quiet. Waiting for his dumb Witcher to crack. It probably won’t take much longer, by the way Geralt lingers around him, and stares at him like a kicked puppy.

At least he hopes so.

* * *

Walking without talking, without singing, is shit. Even though Geralt once thought all he wanted was blessed silence in reality it’s- It’s fucking unsettling. Jaskier isn’t being _Jaskier_ , and Geralt is done with the silence and the avoidance and- everything. He’s done with it all. He just wants Jaskier, his bard, back.

Something is rising within him, something as hot as anger but _not_ \- he doesn’t know. He feels like exploding, wants everything to be ok again, but he _can’t_ yell at Jaskier. Not again. Not ever. Can’t bear to see Jaskier upset at him even more.

Breathing deeply, Geralt clenches and unclenches his hand a few times, prepares himself to talk and stops walking (Roach stopping by his side). Jaskier keeps going, as if he hasn’t noticed. It’s torture. Absolute torture. Like Jaskier doesn’t care about him anymore.

“ _Jaskier._ ” it comes off soft and begging and hurt, Geralt hates the sound of it. Weak and desperate. Desperate for Jaskier.

At that the bard does stop, but for some reason he doesn’t look at Geralt, doesn’t turn around, doesn’t speak. He stops and waits.

_Fuck_.

_Look at me, look at me, look at me,_ Geralt yearns but doesn’t say.

“ _Are you_ \- is everything, ok?” he asks instead, unsure, broken.

Time seems to pass horrifyingly slow, until finally, _finally,_ Jaskier is looking at him. An unreadable look on his face, “What do you think?”

“Fuck, Jaskier. _Don’t-_ Just. Just fucking talk to me.”

“ _Oh._ So, you do want me to talk? Are you quite sure? Because I can remember a fair amount of situations where you’ve told me to shut the fuck up.”

“I- _what?_ ”

Jaskier crosses his arms defiantly, not saying another word.

And-

Wait.

Did he-?

“Did you do this on purpose? Was this a... _trick_?”

“Oh my Gods, a trick? Geralt, you can’t be serious. You cannot be so thick-skulled. I know you’re a very smart Witcher-man-whatever. So, please.”

Jaskier’s mumbling, frustrated, hands on his hips and fuck, Geralt has missed this. Missed this openness, missed Jaskier’s voice, missed _him_.

He keeps pushing, wants to see more of him, hear more, “You were pretending. For what? You grew tired of me, is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I grew so tired of you, that I kept following you all over the place, even as you insulted my wonderful, and beautiful singing. Bravo Geralt, you win the ‘most observant arse of the year’ award. Congratulations.”

_Oh._

“I like your singing.”

Sighing, Jaskier rolls his eyes, “I know you like my singing. I know you secretly love it when I play the lute while we walk, that you enjoy me asking you for help writing a new song. That you actually quite enjoy my ramblings - believe it or not, I’m not blind, I can see your little smiles. I also know you get lonely when I’m not around or you can’t hear me. But you need to stop taking your shit out on me, and insulting me. So.”

“Hm.” he starts, not knowing how to put his thoughts into words, “You were punishing me?”

“For fucks sake Geralt, you aren’t a bad puppy that I can punish. I just, was- well I was trying to get you to change your bad behavior.”

“So, not a puppy to be punished, but a puppy to be trained?” Geralt asks, an eyebrow raised, amused by the analogy.

“Your words, not mine.”

It’s been forever since they talked, since Jaskier looked at him and actually saw him, it feels good; Geralt can’t be mad at him, maybe he should, but he can’t. He closes the distance. Sees Jaskier swallow dry, eyes wide (surprised but not afraid, never afraid), and cups his cheek, “If I promise to try and do better, will you- hm, fuck. Will you come back?”

_Will you come back to me? Be your true self. Please?_

It’s not an apology, they both know it.

Jaskier doesn’t need an apology, he needs changed behavior.

He smiles as he mirrors Geralt’s gesture, and cups his face, taking it a step further and closing their distance. Closer, closer, closer, whispering, “Obviously, or else why would I still around? But from now on behave yourself dear Witcher, or I’ll never sing for you again.” empty promises, lies. Hurt and battered on the ground, heart broken, Jaskier will always sing for him. Geralt doesn’t need to know that though.

Kissing his face (oh how he wanted to kiss his lips instead, but not now), he takes a step back and picks up his lute. It’s been hard controlling himself on the road, not being able to play and sing and _live_.

Tentatively, he plucks at the strings, and sings. Knows that Geralt is following behind him, probably smiling.

Hopes things will be ok with them from now on.

That his little tactic works, and Geralt changes.

They both deserve to be happy after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm also kickassfu on tumblr~~


End file.
